He was tall—over six feet—and well built for someone who wasn’t pack. His shoulders were broad, and he definitely had the look of a man used to working with his hands. He had blond hair the color of wheat, and his eyes—even from fifteen feet away she could see their vivid color—were Mediterranean blue. He was wearing all black—dress slacks, a shirt open at the throat, and a duster that went almost all the way to his heels. And—what’s this now? He was squinting in the poor light of the alley and slipping on a pair of sunglasses. Sunglasses—how weird was that, at ten-thirty at night?

“I have business with the young lady,” Weirdo continued, walking toward them. His hands were open, relaxed. She knew he wasn’t carrying a weapon. He moved with the grace of a dancer; if she hadn’t been so fucking hungry, she might have liked to watch him prance around. “Much kinder business, I think, than you two. So be on your way, all right?” Then, in a lower voice, “Don’t be afraid, miss. I won’t hurt you. Hardly at all.”

“Stand aside, four eyes,” she snapped, and with barely a glance, she stiff-armed him into the side of the building and hurried past. She had no time for would-be muggers and less for Mr. Sunglasses-at-Night. Let the three of them fight it out. She had a date with a dead lobster.

Behind her, Sunglasses yelped in surprise. There was a flat smack as he hit the wall and then slid down. She’d tossed him a little harder than she meant—oopsie—and then the other two jumped him, and she was out of the alley.

She could see the restaurant up ahead. Just a few more steps, and she could order. Just a few more…

She stopped.

Don’t you dare!

Turned.

C’mon, enough already! They’re human…it’s none of your business.

She started back toward the alley. Sunglasses was a weirdo, but he was vulnerable to attack because of what she had done. Yeah, they were human, but it was one thing to mind your own business and another to turn your back on a mess you helped make.

You moron! Who knows when you’ll get to eat now?

“Fuck off, inner voice,” she said aloud. People thought the outer Janet was a bitch; God forbid they should ever meet the inner Janet.

She stepped into the alley to help and was just in time to see the second mugger crumple to the filthy street. The first was half in and half out of the dumpster. And Sunglasses was hurrying, hurrying toward her, licking the blood off his knuckles. “As I was saying before you tossed me against the wall, I have business with you, miss. And where on earth do you work out?”